I've been tagged!!

Our dear family friend, Miss Mickey the Shmoo, has tagged me to play the MeMe game. I'm so excited, since my sisters M&M have already been tagged. I haven't yet picked my seven Catster cats to tag, but will list them once I do.

The rules of the game are simple: in your diary, list seven random facts about yourself. Then select seven of your friends to do the same, notifying them via p-mail that they've been "tagged."

My Seven Random Facts:

1. When Mom first brought me home, she was concerned after a few days that I hadn't yet pooped (even though I was eating like a little hoglet!). Someone suggested using a washcloth moistened with warm water to gently rub my little bum with, since it simulates what mommy cats do to their babies to get them to poo. So, Mom tried it. The next thing she heard was tiny scratching in the litter box. A few minutes passed and I came bounding out of the bathroom, having lightened the load significantly.

2. I was a catnip fiend! Once, when Mommy was at work, I managed to open the kitchen drawer that I knew contained the bag of catnip. I ripped it open and flung it all over the kitchen floor. When Mommy came home, there I was, laying on my back in the middle of the kitchen floor, which was covered in catnip.

3. I once had a catnip hangover. It lasted for about 10 hours. Mom was scared silly, but the vet assured her that that was what was going on.

4. I knew when it was 4:00 in the afternoon -- on the dot. Daddy always said that it was like I was wearing a watch. Daylight Savings Time always threw me off, though.

5. The white little part around my mouth was SO white that it glowed in the dark.

6. A friend of Daddy's nicknamed me The Furry Flunder because when I would lay on the ottoman, my sides spread out and, with my coloring, I looked pretty much like a gigantic flounder.

7. My whiskers were incredibly long and curled upwards, just like Salvador Dali (except that mine did it naturally!).

Passing on the trade secrets

I've been watching Jake. Closely. It's time to start passing on the trade secrets of being an awesome gray fluffy cat. It's not as easy as it sounds, but so far, he's doing really well -- for a boy.

First, there was the matter of crossing one's paws in front of one's self when laying in a sun spot. I caught him doing that -- so did Mom, and it made her smile. Reminded her of me. I've also noticed that his tail is growing fluffier by the day -- very good. He's also getting the white fluffy belly -- another plus. He's completely mastered the art of the impatient silent meow when Mom's fixing the food, but he still needs to get that head-butt down. He hasn't got that yet, but there's time, there's time.

The thing that made me the happiest, though, happened just yesterday. Mom was folding laundry on the bed, and he was helping (just like I did). She bent down to kiss his head (lucky guy!), and he raised his face up to sniff her eye. It sounds strange, I know, but nothing could get Mom to smile more than when I brought my mouth up close to her eye so that all she could see was the upside-down "Y" of my mouth, all fuzzy-like. He did it! And she smiled. So good to see her smile again.

Notes from the lowest cloud

I see that Mom had a pleasant surprise waiting for her this morning on Catster: My diary was selected as one of the daily picks! Naturally, I'm honored but feeling as if my diary entries aren't the happiest to read. You see, I watch over Mom from the lowest cloud possible, and I can see how sad she still is. I died this past May 1, and Mom still looks for me. I've "visited" her twice now in dreams, just to let her know that I'm doing great -- I've made lots of friends here, and no longer do I have any pain or discomfort. I've also tried to remind her that we'll see each other again one day, but until then, she has a special guardian angel watching over her. Reading over her shoulder as she wrote my special Tail of Commitment, I can tell that she's still hurting. Hopefully, though, having Emma and Jake now in her life will help her to find happiness again.

My Tail of Devotion for Camila (1993-2006)

This is a special Tail of Devotion

See All Tails of Devotion

May angels lead you in

And if you were with me tonight
I'd sing to you just one more time
A song for a heart so big
God wouldn't let it live

May angels lead you in
Hear you me, my friends
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in

I know why the river runs

There's a silence that I don't want to hear
There's a hole now where my heart used to be
They say that healing comes in time
But I don't know what that means

Leaving Milla

Our dear, sweet Milla crossed over the Rainbow Bridge this morning. She will be so incredibly missed, so much of our lives involved being with her -- especially our "night night" ritual.

I'll see you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon,
but I'll be seeing you.

Milla back home...

...and doing much better! She's on prednisone (for inflammation) as well as an appetite stimulant, but she seems to be faring quite well: The other day, she actually played a little with a catnip toy, laying on her side (which always tells us that she's feeling better) and rubbing the toy all over her face. She's back to purring, and even though she's still not always using the litter box like she should, I know that she can't help how she feels and I'm right behind her with a piece of toilet paper to catch any product-out! She's my little doll, and I cherish every moment that we have together and that she's feeling more herself -- I don't know how long this is going to last.

Milla back in hospital

I don't really like to post negative diary entries for my babies, but lately I haven't had much good to write about in regards to Milla. Ever since her surgery, she's been so uncomfortable, it just breaks my heart to see her restlessly roam about the house. We had to take her to the emergency vet last Saturday, and again this past Monday, as she had stopped eating and was vomiting so that I feared dehydration (I've never given her sub-q fluids, and wasn't sure how much would be the right dosage for her, so I let the pros handle it). On Monday, they ultrasounded her again and saw some thickening around the surgery site. A needle biopsy confirmed our fears: After only four weeks post-surgery (and into her chemo treatments), the cancer had returned. Last night, we were up with her, trying to keep her comfortable, but she just couldn't get to feeling well enough to sleep. She was meowing so much at me, and I knew that she was saying, "Do something -- help me!" Today she went back to the specialist to stay for the weekend -- they are hydrating her, preparing her for a round of chemo tomorrow. She will also be given steroids to hopefully reduce the inflammation in her colon, as well as pain meds.
My sweet little girl, who has been with me since she was 8 weeks old and has never left my side...seeing her in pain, seeing it in her eyes, just tears my heart out. I pray that this helps to reduce the cancer's growth, and to help her find some relief, but I know what the inevitable is. I just went through this two months ago -- it feels as if it was two years ago with everything else that has been going on. Yet I'm not ready to go through it again.

What kind of a "Happy Birthday" is THIS?!

I hafta say, I've been feeling pretty poopy (no pun really intended) since my surgery. It's been rough. So, of course I was thinking that, given that today was my 13th birthday, that maybe -- JUST MAYBE -- I'd get some royal treatment around here. Well, let's begin with the fact that I've NOT been fed. That's right: NO breakfast. It's not like I was expecting breakfast in bed or anything, but a nice full bowl of something yummy certainly wouldn't be uncalled for, given the momentous occasion. I overheard Mom telling Dad last night, "Don't feed her after midnight, and nothing but water in the morning." They also keep talking about "chemotherapy." Who or what is a chemotherapy? And what does it have to do with my very empty food bowl?

Oh, wait...here comes Mom now. Maybe she has my breakfast -- a meal SO special that it just took longer than usual to prepare. Hey -- wait a minute! She's got that nasty carrying contraption that she puts us in when we go to the vet! What's going on? No, I won't get in!! No!

Drats...we're going to the vet. @#$%*!!